


The Mind is a Precious Metal

by AbandonedWorld



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cerebro, Death, End of the war, Holy crap why do I always write such sad stuff, Hurt, Love, M/M, Sad, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3330131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbandonedWorld/pseuds/AbandonedWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles self-sacrifices to end the human/mutant war. Erik tries to stop him. Big ol' sadfest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mind is a Precious Metal

"I'm sorry, my friend, but it must be done." 

I take a step back but Erik's hand around my arm is ironclad and unmoving, almost as if a vice grip has suddenly been shackled to my bicep. I want to tell him that _'it hurts, don't do that, please stop,'_ but I know deep down that these next few moments, right now, right here, will be the last ones we ever share together. For better or worse, vice grip or naught, this is it. So I accept the discomfort in my limb. 

"B--but...you don't _have_ to do this, Charles, you don't. We can find another way. I know ther--there has to be another way--Hank I'm right, tell him that I'm right...? Hank?" 

I watch closely as Hank's eyes go from exuding confidence and determination to two orbs reflecting how downtrodden and burdened he's just become. It's the weight upon him; the weight of this decision I've made, the heaviness of Erik's distressful, pleading words, and the enormous amount of guilt McCoy will carry throughout his life as he wonders, " _could I have done anything more? Was there any other option that I missed?"_

Much like Erik I want to tell Hank that _'no, there isn't anything more to be done. Trust me, I've searched,'_ but I know Hank knows this. Somewhere inside, he knows all routes have been thoroughly exhausted. All but one. 

There is only this decision left – the execution of both it and myself. 

I pray that the future will exist, now that I'm going to do all that can to see that this is so. But then a fear creeps in and I...cannot go anywhere without first addressing it. 

"Erik," I pause to breathe and hold the hand that's still wrapped around my other arm; he shakes only a little at the contact but receives me nonetheless. "I need you to carry on with the mission we've only just begun. These children _must_ be rescued. They can be educated, they can learn to coexist alongside humans, Erik, I know they can. And I know you can see this through without m--listen, I can't have this choice backfiring in the years to come. Do not drown over an action of mine that intentionally, purposefully, left you dry on land--will you promise me that?" 

My eyes are begging his own now, my lips choking on the desperate words caught in the base of my throat. 

But he slips, and I see it, if only for an instant was it there: A flash of betrayal and anger and then a sorrow so great I almost break down and abandon the plan. I can't leave him like this, everyone leaves him _'and now you're going to leave him, too,'_ I chide. 

Yet all of this is to save my friend and everyone else I care so deeply for. 

And that is all that is of consequence. Saving Erik would be enough reason for me, but it's so much more than that. Which is exactly why I didn't allow room for opinion or ...feelings to cloud my judgement. 

Because I would stay for him. And he knows it. 

Though Erik has told me I don't have to do this, or that there might be other ways, the fact of the matter is, he hasn't come right out and asked for me to stay with him. And he won't. Because he knows I would. Stay, that is. For him. 

It's petty and technical but it's who we are to one another. 

Erik knows the fate of the mutant race is worth more than what his heart wants. Or mine. We could have lived a thousand lives in just this one lifetime together, but it cannot be. Was never meant to be. 

I let go of his hand and in doing so I'm forcing myself to let go of him. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my time of living and I doubt Cerebro will make me feel any differently. Physical pain has nothing on this current agony of ours. 

I take a step back...he lets me. 

Erik's face is red and he's upset but the anger is gone. Regret and fear and uncertainty have taken its place there now. 

I look him over; those black, scuffed shoes and dark gray trousers frame his lower half nicely while a deep navy-blue dress shirt hides the frame of a god beneath it. I've worshipped there plenty. I pause in respite, content to live in the past if only for a brief fraction of time. 

I'll take his blue and gray and black, his dirty blond-sometimes-light brown hair and two vivid green eyes and I'll remember it long after this place. I know I will. 

I swallow the ache. 

My bottom lip curls up on onto its other half and I nod slowly. I'm screaming inside but careful still, so careful as that I don't project. I don't need Erik hearing just how badly I'm tearing at the seams. 

"Stay out here, Erik. Hank, if you'd accompany me, please?" I know it's wrong to refuse my friend. But I can't have his last image of me be one where I'm writhing in utter despair, fading fast to a wretched and horrible pain. No one needs to see that, least of all Erik. In truth I know he's seen enough of that for both of our lifetimes. 

He fights me, as I knew he would. 

"Charles, no, please let me be there with you...Gottverdammt, please! Please. Don't keep me in the dark...don't keep me from you. Not now. NOT now." 

My eyes drop to the floor and I stare at the polished Italian leather on my feet. I won't cry in front of him, I can't. 

I sniff and slowly nod my head. "O..kay. But you must promise me, no matter how bad it gets in there, you won't do a thing to stop it. Erik, I need your word on this." I've asked for too many promises already, but this one is the last. 

Returning to meet his gaze, I notice he has moved closer to me. I love the way navy blue looks on him; it reminds me of the night we first met and the stormed ocean and the deep, dark depths that brought us together. _'Yes, blue looks good on you, my friend.'_

He stutters at first, but soon gains composure of himself and finishes with a quiet,"I promise." 

I know what that took for Erik to say that, and the gratitude and trust I have in this man is more than even I'm capable of understanding. I hear myself whisper a simple Thank You before turning to walk towards Cerebro's entrance. I know whatever waits beyond that door for me won't be half as bad as the Hell that lies in wait for Erik afterwards. 

A silence enchants the air around us three as we make our way into the heart of the machine. 

And as I walk towards my fate, I think everything over one final time; the choice was never if I was going to sacrifice myself for this cause, but rather when. Even Erik surely knew, or at least had to suspect, that this day would come to pass. In one form or another. 

Moving my hands out of my trouser pockets – when did I place them in there? – I smile affectionately at Hank while resolutely stands before the control panel. I do nothing, but for a second I listen to Cerebro as it purrs and comes to life around us. 

The helmet with its wires and tubes and lights sits on the pedestal waiting and I hesitate for one-two-three ticks before Erik's hand comes to rest on my shoulder. He's standing directly behind me, so close I can feel the heat from his labored breaths on my neck. "I'm ...here for you," he says, so quietly I wonder if I heard the words inside of his mind rather than spoken from the mouth. I close my eyes and revel in all that is Erik Lehnsherr and thank whatever God or Being or Higher Power there is for giving him to me. Even if it wasn't forever. 

This is it. The end of The War. A war that has gone on for far too long, taking friends of ours who were taken far too soon. 

I'm at the pedestal now.

Erik offers to help secure Cerebro onto my head--my hands are shaking and Hank is busy setting and situating still--and I smile warmly at the offer. But the minute passes and I am readied as I will ever be and I know this is really goodbye. 

"Erik-" 

What do you choose to say, when you have so much to say? 

"Erik, I--" 

He stops me with a shake of his head, "Don't. I know, I know all of it." 

I close my eyes and damn there goes a tear. I can't care about that in this moment. It's me and this machine and Erik and the whole fucking world sits atop us now. 

"Thank you." 

That's what I say to him, because it's true and complete and everything to me. Just like he is. 

Erik steps away and down onto the platform--a small favor I'm thankful for--and I turn to see Hank staring at me with eyes so remorseful, I wonder how he's able to see through those glasses of his. What a thing to think of. 

"We're all ready here, Hank. Switch'er on whenever you please. And thank you, for everything." 

I don't ask how long it might take for me to subtly change the minds of human beings across the globe and I don't ask how bad the pain might be during this process. I don't want to know these things because either way, they will both happen. 

The electrical hum of the machine increases, bringing me back, and so I return my gaze to Erik. Last time, last moment. Navy blue, gray, green. Blue like the ocean when we first met. Green like endless fields. 

He wants to be closer, wants to take the burden, wants it to be him, wishes so badly that it was he in this position and not I. It's a constant stream projecting from his mind but beneath all of that is ...something that feels a lot like love. 

And then everything goes white.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally back to writing Cherik again...and so happy. Clearly. That's why I wrote something so sad. Duh.


End file.
